Paradise

Giselle opens her eyes and lifts her sunglasses. Dierdre is standing over her. “You’re blocking my sunlight,” she says.

“G, you’re sitting directly under a palm tree,” Dierdre replies. “Get up. We’re going to a meeting.”

Giselle sits up. “What? We just got here an hour ago. And it’s Saturday.”

“It’ll be quick, it’s only a short drive down the road,” answers Dierdre.

Giselle sighs. “Okay. Let me just get changed and grab my bag.”

“No need. The car is already waiting. Mara’s coming too.”

“But I’m just in my bathing suit,” Giselle frowns, looking down at her bikini.

“It’s fine, just grab your wrap and your towel and let’s go! We’re going to be late,” huffs Dierdre. She’s in her fifties, but like a child, she doesn’t take no for an answer.

Giselle follows hesitantly, with the towel tucked under her arm. She ties the wrap around her waist. When they reach the car, Giselle climbs in the back beside Mara, also in her bathing suit. They smile at each other and then turn to look out their windows. Cold air swirls in the cabin and into Giselle’s lungs. The leather seat sticks to the back of her bare legs.

The car heads down the long road away from the beach. Giselle watches the palms and lush shrubbery hustle past the window. She looks behind her and sees the ocean sparkle before it fades into the distance. They pass through the resort gate, and the paved road and manicured lawns dissolve into dust and potholes.

“Who is this meeting with anyway?” asks Giselle flatly.

“Charmée’s Minister of Finance,” answers Dierdre from the front seat. “We’re going to his beach house.”

Giselle looks at the back of Dierdre’s head. “Why?” she asks.

“Just to pay him a social visit. Rub elbows,” says Dierdre.

Ten minutes later, they arrive at another gate. They pull through and follow the driveway to a modern house surrounded by greenery. Giselle can hear waves crashing behind the house. The three of them get out of the car as an older, slightly plump man greets them. A younger man in a dark blue military uniform follows ten paces behind.

“Ah, Dierdre!” says the man, kissing both Dierdre’s cheeks.

“Bonjour, Michel. This is Mara and Giselle.” Dierdre gestures her hand toward them.

“Enchantée!” Michel smiles and briefly takes both their hands. Giselle can see beads of sweat on his forehead. “Come!” he says, turning and moving towards the house.

The house is a white, concrete box with windows on three sides. The fourth side is wide open and faces a wide terrace situated on a hilltop. They walk through the house to the terrace, which includes a covered dining area and a pool surrounded by plush lounge chairs. A salty breeze greets them. The ocean dazzles below.

“Come, sit,” says Michel, motioning towards the lounge chairs.

As she and Mara seat themselves, Giselle looks back towards the house. “Where’s Dierdre?” she asks Mara.

“She said she wasn’t coming in,” replies Mara. “She had another meeting to attend but would swing by and pick us up in a bit.”

Giselle’s faces clouds and she feels slightly winded. Her hands grip the chair cushion.

Michel claps his hands. “I will get you a drink!” he exclaims and walks back into the house.

Giselle notices the man in uniform is now sitting in a chair next to the pool. He is staring at them. Michel returns with two cocktails. Giselle peers at the glass for a moment before taking it.

“Who is that?” she asks Michel, nodding towards the man in uniform.

Michel walks over to the man and claps a hand on his back. “This is Baptiste,” he says, arm around him. “He is my bodyguard. Highly trained. Used to be in the Charmée National Police.”

Baptiste grins at Mara and Giselle. Mara smiles back and sips her cocktail.

Michel takes off his shirt and jumps in the pool. He surfaces and invites them to join him. Mara takes off her wrap and gets in while Giselle stays seated on the lounger.

“Oh, come on,” Michel frowns at her. “You are dressed for swimming! And it is not often I have such beautiful women visit me. I want to be sure you enjoy yourselves.”

He winks at Mara. She grins back. They both look expectantly at Giselle, so she gets up and walks over the pool. She sits at the edge and swings her legs into the water. This seems to satisfy them.

“So. How old are you?” Michel asks, looking between them.

“Twenty-seven,” Giselle answers. “Twenty-nine,” Mara responds. Michel looks pleased but says nothing more.

They talk about their trip to Charmée. What they are working on there, how much longer they will stay in the country. Then Michel invites them to ride his jet ski. “You know how to drive a jet ski?” he asks. They both shake their heads. “Ah. Then I will have to ride with you,” he smiles.

Giselle demurs and says she would rather just relax. Mara volunteers and then tells Giselle it will be fun.

“You must come down to the water and watch us, at least,” urges Michel. Giselle relents.

They walk down polished stone stairs carved directly into the hillside. At the water, Baptiste holds the jet ski while Mara puts on a life jacket. Michel climbs in front and Mara sits behind him and wraps her arms around him.

Michel starts the jet ski and Mara gives a whoop of excitement as they take off and bounce across the waves.

Giselle sits at the water’s edge in silence with Baptiste. She watches Michel and Mara disappear around a hillside that meets the ocean. She dips her toes into the water and feels the sun on her face. Cool and hot.

Michel and Mara soon reappear from behind the hill, and the jet ski comes to rest again at the bottom of the stairs. “Now it is your turn!” exclaims Michel as they dismount. Giselle thanks him for the offer, but demurs again.

“Oh, it’s so much fun!” Mara tells her.

“Have you ever been on a jet ski?” asks Michel.

Giselle tells him that she hasn’t.

“Then you must try it!”

Giselle says that she really doesn’t feel like it.

“Yes!” he presses. “You must!”

Michel, Mara, and Baptiste stare at her again. Giselle slumps her shoulders and closes her eyes.

“Okay,” she says.

Mara hands her the life jacket as Michel climbs back on the jet ski. Giselle climbs behind him and stiffly wraps her arms around him. His belly is fleshy, his skin clammy.

“A little tighter,” he says. Giselle ignores him. She holds her breath.

He starts the jet ski, and it resumes bouncing across the waves. Water sprays her face and she tastes salt on her tongue. As they travel around the hillside, Giselle looks into the distance. She can see almost the entire length of the island. From the water, it looks different than what she is used to, and she finds herself overwhelmed. The hills rise directly from the water to distant peaks. The entire country is dense, abundantly green. There is no suggestion of human interference. Not a single dusty road or hut can be seen. From here, she can imagine what it was like a hundred years ago. Virgin. Unspoiled.

Michel stops the jet ski in the water. It bobs gently in the waves.

“Do you want to try driving it?” he asks.

“Uh, no,” replies Giselle.

“Yes! Try it,” he insists. He stands up, moves to one side and motions for her to shimmy forward. Then he sits behind her.

“Place your hands here,” he says, pointing to the handlebars. Then he places his hands on top of hers. She feels his hot breath in her ear. He shows her how to push the throttle. She drives the jet ski slowly. He keeps his hands on hers and guides her to speed it up. They turn the jet ski around and head back towards the beach house.

Mara and Baptiste are standing in the water as they approach. Mara smiles widely as Giselle dismounts. “Isn’t it fun?” Mara asks her. Giselle nods as she takes off the life jacket.

The afternoon is beginning to melt into early evening. Michel invites them back up to the terrace and goes inside the house to arrange dinner.

“Any word from Dierdre?” Giselle asks Mara. Mara checks her phone and then shakes her head.

Giselle is kicking herself now for not buying a phone that works in Charmée. “Can you try calling her?” she asks Mara.

Mara dials and waits. “No answer,” she says.

Michel comes back and announces that he has ordered dinner, which will arrive shortly. They sit at the table under the awning.

“Do you like to golf?” Michel asks Giselle.

“I golf occasionally,” replies Giselle.

“One day I will take you to Miami with me. I have a house there near a golf course,” Michel says.

Giselle gives a tight smile and says nothing.

They hear a doorbell ring, and Baptiste heads into the house. He returns, followed by a man carrying four trays. The man sets the trays on the table, bows, and leaves. Baptiste opens the trays and sets one in front of each of them.

Giselle looks inside her tray and sees lobster, steak, and sauteed vegetables. She realizes how hungry she is, and she picks up a fork and takes a few bites.

Michel sits across from her. “Giselle.” He savours her name as he says it. She hates the sound of it in his mouth. “Your name is French. Do you speak French?”

“Only a little,” she replies in English, still staring down at her tray.

Michel grabs her hand. “Voici des fruits, des feuilles, et des branches. Et puis voici mon cœur qui ne bat que pour vous. Ne le déchirez pas avec vos deux mains blanches. Et qu’à vos yeux si beaux l’humble présent soit doux.”

Giselle’s chest tightens and she quickly pulls her hand away. Mara laughs.

“That is a French love poem,” Michel says.

Giselle turns to Mara, eyes wide. “Has Dierdre told you when she would be back?” she asks.

Mara checks her phone again and shakes her head.

“I think you should try calling again,” says Giselle.

Mara dials her phone and waits. “Still no answer,” she says.

“Don’t worry, enjoy yourselves. You can stay the night,” Michel says in a consoling tone. “I have clothes for you. I have extra rooms for you. I can give you a tour!”

“I’m still eating,” Giselle responds.

Michel gets up and heads to the kitchen. The evening light is slowly fading, and Giselle can see him reaching for a wine bottle in the light of the kitchen. Behind her, a fiery sun throws pink and orange across the sky before slipping into a calm, dark sea.  

Giselle leans over to Mara and says in a low voice, “I am absolutely not staying the night here. If I have to, I will walk to the main road and catch a tram back to the city. You can text Dierdre that and let her know.”

Mara’s face tightens as she listens to Giselle. They both know that if Giselle tries to take a public tram back to the city on her own, there’s a good chance she won’t make it. She’ll probably end up mugged or kidnapped. Especially at night.

Mara nods and picks up her phone.

Michel returns with the wine and pours them each a glass. Although the sun is setting, Giselle notices that he still has sweat on his brow. He tells them about his home and his plans for them to stay with him for the rest of the weekend.

The doorbell rings. Baptiste answers it, and Giselle sees Dierdre’s driver standing in the doorway. She immediately gets up, grabs her towel and heads toward the front of the house.

Out front, Dierdre is sitting in the car. Giselle gets in the back seat, followed by Mara.

“What took you so long?” Mara asks Dierdre.

Dierdre is looking at her phone and doesn’t answer.

“Why did you leave?” Giselle asks loudly.

Dierdre is startled out of her concentration. She twists around to look at them. “I had another meeting that I didn’t want to miss. And besides, I won’t set foot in that man’s house.”

The driver starts the car and pulls away from the house.

“Why not?” Giselle demands in a rising voice.

“His wife died last year. He keeps asking me to marry him,” Dierdre says, looking at her phone again. “He won’t take no for an answer. He’s a lonely and entitled man.”

“So, what were we doing there?” asks Giselle. The car lurches over a pothole and she grimaces.

“Oh, just to give him a little company,” sighs Dierdre. “Like I said, he’s lonely since his wife died. I thought a nice visit might also make him more likely to help us finally get that new Land Rover out of customs.”

Giselle sits back in her seat and looks out the window. Night has come, and darkness blankets the island. People pass like phantoms along the edge of the road. Giselle’s coughs. Her chest feels tight and it’s hard to breathe. Maybe it’s the dust.

They pull through the resort gates and they are surrounded by abundant flora again. When the car stops, Giselle hops out and heads to her room without a word. She lays down on the bed and stares at the ceiling for a while, trying and failing to ease the ache in her chest.

She sits up, grabs her laptop, and calls her boyfriend on Zoom. She tells him about her day.

Her boyfriend is silent for a long time. Giselle holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

She lets out a big sigh. Then she laughs. “Of course. Just another beautiful day in paradise.”